


Than Are Dreamt

by Rubynye



Category: DC Comics
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Robins trade notes and hickeys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Than Are Dreamt

Title: Than Are Dreamt  
Fandom: DC Comics  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Robin II/Robin IV (Jason/Steph)  
Warnings: het, PWP  
Dedicated To: [](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/profile)[**brown_betty**](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/), who long long ago asked for some of the things featured herein.  
Bodacious Beta: [](http://sister-wolf.livejournal.com/profile)[**sister_wolf**](http://sister-wolf.livejournal.com/), who is very very nifty.  
Disclaimer: DC's property, my bit of fun.

 

Steph was not going to stagger, and she was _not_ going to yawn, no matter how damn tired she was. Batman walked as if they hadn't had a ridiculously busy night, and sat right down at the computers as if it weren't 3:29 AM. She stared at the shiny black curve of his cowl, and swayed on her feet, and did not yawn.

"You're tired," he said without pausing in his typing. "Go home."

Like a little kid needing a nap? "No, I'm fine. I've got reading to work on." Steph carefully planted one foot before the other, unfastening her cape and cracking her tunic open as she trudged, till she reached the chair and low table piled with her books. It was a little incongruous to have armchairs in a Batcave, though, admittedly, not as strange as a giant penny. As Steph sat down, opening _The Criminal Mind: Case Studies_ she idly wondered how big Lincoln's eye was, looking down at her. Tim would know, she thought, down to the millimeter.

She was asleep within five minutes.

*_*

Finding herself on her back on the practice mats, Steph's first thought is that she rolled out of the chair and all the way over. But that makes no sense at all. She must be dreaming.

Her second thought is that she's not alone. "Hey, gorgeous," says a husky-voiced boy, and she turns her head to see Robin lying on his side next to her, head propped on one hand.

Robin, but not Tim. His cape is yellow, and he's wearing the silly green shorts; though he has thick black hair and big blue eyes, bright through the open eyeholes of the green mask, he's also, well, a lot bigger than Tim, and his grin is wide and bright. "Come here often?"

"You did _not_ just say that." In fact, he's wearing the costume Steph last saw in the Case, and a quick glance shows the Case itself is missing. Which Robin is he? Or is he just something her imagination came up with? She thinks of getting up and walking around him, and winces; could she stop with the training for the length of a damn dream?

Especially since he's not looking at her like a problem to be solved. In fact, he's kind of leering at her. "So, why're you dressed up as me?" he asks, reaching over to trace the R on her tunic with one finger, pressing just lightly enough to not cut himself and just hard enough that she knows he knows exactly what's underneath. "Halloween costume to match your name?"

Steph's fist itches with a deep desire to slam into the boy's cocky grin. "No, you don't get it. I'm Robin, Batman's new partner. This is _my_ suit."

The blue eyes widen behind the mask. "No shit, huh? This must be the future, then. I wonder what _I'm_ doing now. Maybe something flashy, like Nightwing. I bet I'm called Redhawk or something like that."

_Oh_. Realization makes Steph shiver. Now she knows which Robin he is. Why is she dreaming of a ghost? But this Robin's way too alive to be a ghost; he's really solid and smells kind of nice, as if he's just showered and suited up, and his blue eyes glitter warmly as talks, waving his hands in negligent loops. "It doesn't matter. If you're really from the future it's not like you're allowed to tell me. Besides, you make a really hot Robin, tights and all."

"Thanks, but I don't just look good." When she says that he smirks, and she smirks back, propping her head up on her hand.

"Really." He raises an eyebrow, and she imagines hitting him, and thinks she just might like him.

Even--- especially--- when he lunges. His arms are stronger than hers--- no fair, this is _her_ dream!--- but she pins him between her knees and flips him right over, and he lands hard enough to wheeze, the thud vibrating up her arms. He's still got a fistful of her tunic, yanking at it to toss her, so she hangs onto his collar, slides her knees up around his ribs, and squeezes.

"Ooof!" The blue eyes glitter brightly, and there's muscle over those ribs. "You can ride me anytime, Girl-Robin."

Steph rolls her eyes and lets go, and gets her feet beneath her. Robin almost doesn't let go of her tunic in time, the tug nearly overbalances her, but she manages not to wobble as she stands up over him. Lazily pushing himself up on his elbows, Robin leers exasperatingly up at Steph, even when she folds her arms. "Are you always like this?" she asks. This Robin is really different from Tim. He isn't serious at all.

Just dangerous. She hasn't seen a grin that wide since Nightwing's. "As often as I can be." When he runs a broad, warm finger up the back of her calf, Steph jerks her leg away and hops out of his reach; he merely tips his head back to watch her. "So, why are we wasting a perfectly good wet dream talking?"

A wet dream? Steph's not sure about that... but maybe she is. The thump of her pulse and the hot flush all over her skin kind of agree with him. It _is_ a dream, and this Robin's a hunk, even if he makes her want to resist him just for the hell of it, just to see how far he'll go. The exact recklessness Batman's trying to train out of her shines at her in Robin's smile.

Batman must be getting his hooks into her subconscious, because it completely won't cut her a break. While she wasted time thinking Robin grabs at her ankles; she barely dodges, and in the time it takes her to get her fists up he rolls and springs to his feet, those bare thighs flexing distractingly. She really needs to be faster. She's working on it. "I thought we were sparring."

"Sparring, foreplay, same thing." He cocks his head and leads with his right, and when she blocks his blows the impacts jar her all the way up to her shoulders. He'd better not be pulling his punches, or dream or no she'll kick his ass. Warming up, shaking loose, feeling the familiar rush beginning, Steph tosses a couple punches of her own followed by a low kick that connects, and when she drives an 'oof' out of the other Robin she feels her grin widen and sharpen.

So does his. "Come on, Girl Wonder," he says, blue eyes narrowed and glittery; Steph can hear air rush and blood pound in her ears as she spins and kicks high. He reaches out to grab her ankle again, just like she'd expected, and she swings her leg up and over as she whirls, turning the spin into a punch to his shoulder.

Right over his 'R'. "Damn," he puffs, sounding impressed, and Steph laughs as she dodges back. Robin laughs too, chasing her, and her jump gets one leg out of the way of his sweep. The other, not quite. It's her turn to "oof" and fall; she reaches backwards to catch herself on her hands, but he grabs her wrists as he slams her to the mats, and man, he's solid.

"Hey." Robin pins her wrists down so hard the mat dents and kisses her. Steph considers kneeing him right in the little green panties, and kisses him back. He kisses as enthusiastically as he fights, but with soft lips, hard but not too hard, not trying to stick his tongue down her throat or anything. Warmed up even more than sparring makes her, Steph wiggles and flexes her fingers and kisses Robin, and maybe this _is_ that kind of dream after all.

The other Robin pulls his head up just far enough for the tips of their noses to brush; he squeezes Steph's wrists and laughs cheerfully, and it's all irritatingly amazing, till Steph doesn't know if she wants to kick him or kiss him again. "Looks like I've got you, Robin."

"I can get free whenever I want to, Robin." When he grins and ducks for another kiss, Steph bites his bottom lip, full and soft between her teeth.

Robin hisses, and laughs, and lets her bite for a long moment before he pulls away. "You sure know how to play," he says, licking his bitten lip with a sharp pink tongue, and there's the line between really annoying and seriously hot as they skid right across it.

Still... the more she cranks, the more he seems to like it. Channeling her inner Tim, Steph echoes, "Play?" scornfully, as she squirms for effect. "This isn't a game."

"Everything's a game, baby," says the Robin atop her, bare hard thighs sliding between her own; before she can tell him not to call her "baby" he kisses her again, and this time he bites her. Not as hard as she bit him, just hard enough to hurt nicely. Steph squeaks, and Robin laughs into the kiss and licks her bitten lip like he had his own, and she slides her tongue up to meet his.

And--- and it's a dream, and the nice thing about dreams is they don't make sense. Steph knows that it takes a lot longer to strip off her Robin suit than it seems to here, and even the other Robin's must take longer, but soon enough he's pushing his fingers up under the band of her bra in back, and her panties are warm and clingy-wet. The air in the Cave is warmer than it ever was even in August, and she's on top again, looking down at him, and he's naked. Pale and warm, scribbled with scars and firm with muscles all over, long lashes over closed eyes in the holes of the mask he's still wearing. They still have their masks on, and Steph wants to see Robin's face, but it's also kind of appropriate; she runs her fingertips along the edge of his mask, hot skin and cool thick polymer, and he opens his eyes and makes a kiss-face at her as he flattens his hands up beneath her bra.

Damn, his hands feel good, strong and calloused and big; they ripple over her ribs and push her bra up and cup her breasts really nicely. Steph gasps, gulping back a squeak, and arches into the touch. "Robin, you've got a _great_ rack," he says as he curves his hands round them, flicking her nipples with his thumbs. The sharp throbs make her jerk against him, so he chuckles and does it again.

"Mmm, thanks. Ro-- oh..." He's not bad himself; Steph has seen many grown men who aren't half as built as this guy. She yanks her bra out of the way and leans down; he lightly squeezes her breasts, grinning when her lips part as she moans and shivers.

"Like that, Gorgeous Wonder?" he asks, eyes shining, looking way too pleased with himself, but if he keeps calling her things like gorgeous and Robin, Steph decides she can forgive him for it. "You feel so fucking good, Robin. Your legs around my waist, your tits in my hands, the way you moan---"

"God, the mouth on you!" Steph's face burns, and she wants to giggle, and she wants him to keep talking dirty for about a thousand more years. She tangles her hands in his hair and pulls his head up; he closes his eyes and groans, lips parting, and when she kisses him he kisses back hard enough to make her lips throb, fast and hard and great.

Steph hadn't thought she remembered sex well enough to dream it like this. Robin pulls one hand away from her breasts to shove it into her hair, holding her as he drags his lips across her cheek, breathing hard against her skin. His other hand slides down over her ribs and over her hip into her tights, and he squeezes her ass like he'd squeezed her breasts, hard enough to feel good, not hard enough to be obnoxious. Of course he does. He's Robin, and this is her dream.

No matter how real it seems, even when her earring clicks on his teeth and they laugh at the same time, even when he slides his hand up between her legs and bites her under her ear and ok, she squeaked that time, but Robin's biting her and stroking her and solid under her hands, Steph figures she's allowed to let herself squeak.

He drags her tights and panties down, his thumb pressing a line of heat along her asscheek; his other hand pushes two fingers up into her, and she can feel his shoulder move under her hand even as she rocks against him, as her back arches. It always felt so much better when it wasn't just her hand. He's breathing against her neck, his mouth warm and his teeth sweetly hot when he bites her again, harder, lower, his other hand squeezing her thigh. He doesn't quite have the right rhythm yet, but that makes it even better when he finds it, when he presses his thumb against her clit and it feels so good she can't stay up. Steph lets it melt her spine and grabs onto Robin's shoulders, and falling forward feels like the first jump of flying.

"Oh, yeah, that's it. C'mon..." Robin laugh makes her skin tingle as he sucks hard at the bite on her neck, and Steph can feel herself getting wetter, feel herself shaking when he speeds his hand. He arches up, rubbing himself against her tights and the back of his moving hand, and when Steph wiggles and pushes her face against his he gets the hint and kisses her, tangling their tongues. This is even better than sparring, and there's a rough dent in his smooth skin under her hand, and every twisting thrust of his fingers drives a high, breathless noise out of her. He pulls back to watch her and laughs breathlessly and tells her, "That's it, baby, come for me."

Steph laughs too. This is definitely even better than sparring, and she loves sparring. "I'm not your fucking baby," she gasps back, and the last word stretches and breaks as she comes, hard, clutching tight around his fingers in her, flares of heat streaking through her. He's still laughing when the roaring in her ears subsides enough for her to hear him, and he starts stroking her again before she can pry her eyes open, and ooh _yes_. "Then come on, Robin," he gasps, and bites her neck, right over the hickey, and Steph dimly hears herself scream.

Whoa. Wow. When she comes to she tosses her hair back out of the way and looks at Robin, bright eyes and brighter grin, and the mats crinkle-creak as she shifts her knees forward. Her thighs are still shaking, but she wants to get him off before he makes her pass out--- can she pass out in a dream? ---and she pushes his hand away as she shoves her tights down further. She can feel his whole body shudder when she grabs his dick with both hands, and he's absolutely drooling precome, but he doesn't stop grinning, even when he licks his fingers. "Mmm. Tastes like---"

"Oh, _no_. Don't you dare." Steph cuts him off, squeezing him just this side of threatening, other hand curved under the soft skin of his sac; he slides his hand up her back into her hair and yanks her back down for a kiss, and is that how she tastes, musky-savory, tinged with sweet? It's... really hot, actually, tasting herself on him, almost like he went down on her or something.

That's a plan, for the next round maybe. He thrusts into her hand, and Steph jacks him and kisses him till he mutters against her mouth; when she backs off he's talking like he'd never stopped. "Oh, fuck, yeah, speed up again? God, yes, jerk me off, Robin, jerk me..." He drops his head back, hands tight in Steph's hair and on her arm. "Oh, shit, yes, goddamn your hands feet great..." The next several noises he makes aren't words in English, but they're still totally clear, and totally hot. Steph watches his eyelids press shut and his nose crinkle, speeding up more to match the frantic pace of his hips. Her wrist is creaking, but there's no way she won't keep up, not with the way his eyelashes flutter, the way he gasps and curses and grins.

He plants his feet and thrusts harder, making his thighs start smacking hers. It sounds incredibly silly and she feels like she'll fall on him, but she's Robin, she won't fall, and he's Robin, he holds her up, his grip tight on her arm, even when he groans and arches nearly his entire body as he comes between their bellies, pulsing in her hand.

Mmm, that was fun. Steph lets herself slump onto a laughing, shaking Robin; on a whim she pulls her hand up and licks it, and there's that bitter salty taste she remembers. What's unexpected is the way he grabs her wrist and sucks on her fingers, licking off his own come, blue eyes sparkling over his pursed lips. _Man_. Steph never wants to wake up from this one. A shocked laugh shudders up from her belly, and if he keeps running that hot tongue between her fingers she's going to be turned on again pretty much immediately.

"You're a freak," she tells him, and he grins toothily and bites her fingers. He hums till the bites tingle, before she tugs and he lets her hand go.

Steph manages to turn falling backwards into sitting, and Robin pulls his knees up to make a backrest for her. "Thanks," she says, settling back against his warm, solid thighs. "That was... are all your spars like that?"

It's fun to watch him puff up his chest. "Just the best ones." He grins wide and naughty enough to make a little curl of heat wriggle in her belly. "You're pretty damn cool, Girl-Robin. I like your attitude, how you fight. Come look me up in the real world."

God, she wishes she could. She laughs to cover her wince, and he laughs too and rubs her knees a little; his grin softens as he adds, "If the big guy ever... well, just remember, his bark is worse than his bite, OK?"

Steph blinks. That isn't the pillow talk she was expecting. "OK, thanks, I will. But, why--"

The Cave flickers. The world flickers. Their suits flicker, on and off their skin.

"Damn," they both say, and Steph wakes up.

*_*

"Wake up." Batman's deep voice in her ears jolted her awake. She found herself folded over, her book on her knees and her cheek on the page, and to make things extra embarrassing, she'd drooled onto it. Dammit.

Steph swung her legs off the armrest, scrubbed at her face, and made herself look straight up at Batman even though she knew she was blushing. The Robin suit really holds in heat; she felt flushed and damp and a little sticky all over, and though someone who didn't know him might have thought he looked impassive, she was pretty sure Batman was smirking. He could probably tell what kind of dream she'd been having; he'd probably trained himself to smell that kind of thing, or something.

Steph felt like her face was catching fire, but "be what you want to seem" and all that, right? She dragged up her game face, stuck a pleasant smile on it, and didn't let herself try to explain.

"Get some sleep," Batman told her, and at least he didn't say anything else. That would have been even worse. Steph nodded obediently and took the opportunity to escape bathroom-wards.

Still, the shortest path took her by the Case, and something made her stop and look. Jason Todd. That's what his name was. She'd known that, but... Steph reached for her fading dream, the hazy picture of the boy in her head, and "Robin" fit too, maybe better. She looked at the suit for a moment, the thin yellow cape and green boy-panties and the mask with its empty eyeholes, and could almost see the bright blue eyes. Maybe she would look him up.

Maybe her neck was killing her. When Steph went to rub it she actually winced; controlling her breathing till the throbbing went down a little, she probed gently, and then had to swallow a surprised giggle. Good thing her jacket had a high collar.

When she checked in the bathroom mirror, there it was, an oval red hickey. Steph grinned at her reflection, and could almost hear the husky laugh.


End file.
